


There's Somebody On My Couch

by AliciaLuar



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, confused d'Artagnan and hungover Athos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1764886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliciaLuar/pseuds/AliciaLuar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When d'Artagnan wakes up and finds someone sleeping on his couch the first thing he does is grab a frying pan. Just in case.</p><p>Based on the gender changes of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/96029">The Muskequeers</a> collection by  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/CPFics/">CPFics</a> and on <a href="http://thebookofchar.tumblr.com/post/86201737975/">this post</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Somebody On My Couch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CPFics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CPFics/gifts).



> Since I based this fic on [The Muskequeers](http://archiveofourown.org/series/96029) collection, Athos is agender (pronouns they/them/their) even if d'Artagnan doesn't know at first, and Aramis is genderfluid (pronouns ne/nem/nir).
> 
> This is my first fic for this fandom and English is not my first language so please be nice =)

_Ok, you want to be a policeman, right? Then you’ll have to deal with stuff like this all the time, so just calm down and grab something to defend yourself._

It was easier to think that than to actually do it, but the voice in the back of d’Artagnan’s head (which sounded suspiciously like Constance’s) had a point, so he reached his arm into the kitchen and grabbed a frying pan that was over the table. Trying not to make any noise and looking around for any other surprises, he circled the living room as close as he could to the walls, avoiding the boxes spread on the floor. When he reached the window and closed it ( _That’s what happens when you leave the window close to the fire stairs open, you moron_ , Constance’s voice told him), he discovered that someone had knocked down a pile of books and for a moment he worried that there were going to be folded pages. But at that moment he heard a noise and tensed again.

The person lying on his couch was turning around in his sleep and even if d’Artagnan had already seen that he was very shirtless, he was also looking like he hadn’t been acquaintance with a razor in too much time. He also smelled a lot like wine, but a second look told d’Artagnan that at least he seemed mostly clean. _Yeah, good to know that you won’t have to burn the couch_ , Constance’s voice commented, _but he’s drooling all over that cushion_.

“Oh, fuck” d’Artagnan exclaimed, part of him wanting to just pull the cushion and wake up the stranger who was indeed wetting his property. But on the other hand, he seemed really comfortable with one arm over his head and the other hanging over the edge of the couch and d’Artagnan didn’t know if he was going to react violently, so he decided to do something else.

Dialing the police number just in case with his left hand, he reached with the frying pan and started to poke the stranger’s arm with it. He started to grunt but only raised his hand as if he was trying to make a fly go away, so d’Artagnan persisted.

After a while, the stranger finally reacted twisting again on the couch so he was with his back towards d’Artagnan and muttering something that sounded like “Porthos, make nem stop.”

_Isn’t Porthos your neighbor?_

D’Artagnan reminded himself to get new friends because Constance’s voice was starting to annoy him, but she had a point. Porthos and that other person (Aramis? Was that nir name? The pronouns definitely matched…) lived next door, so maybe the person currently occupying his couch had been looking for them when he entered that night in his apartment.

Before he started trying again to wake the stranger, said person seemed to find the lack of response suspicious and raised his head over his shoulder.

“You are not Aramis.”

Confused, d’Artagnan only managed to say “No, I’m not.”

“Who are you?”

Part of him just wanted to laugh. There was somebody shirtless in his couch twisting himself in a really undignified position, with his eyes barely open and reeking of cheap wine. And he was asking him who he was. Priceless. _Well, you don’t know what happened, maybe he has a good excuse_. Oh, and now the Constance in his head was pitying the guy. Great.

“You are the one who broke into my apartment.”

“Your apartment?” the stranger finally was sitting up scratching his head and looking around, but the movement didn’t calm d’Artagnan, who kept pointing at him with his pan and holding his phone with the other hand just in case he decided to do anything. “Where is my shirt?”

“How am I supposed to know?” D’artagnan just didn’t know what to do, and for a moment he thought about knocking on his neighbors’ door to tell them to pick up whoever that person was. But that would mean to leave him alone in his apartment and he didn’t want to do that at all.

When the stranger finally found his shirt at his feet and started to button it up, he looked at d’Artagnan again and this time he did it in a more conscious way, making him feel a bit uncomfortable. “What?” d’Artagnan snapped at his scrutiny.

“Who did you say you were?” his voice was still rough, but its tone was bit softer this time which confused d’Artagnan even more. Before he managed to say anything the doorbell rang.

An uncomfortable amount of seconds passed while d’Artagnan eyes went from the door to the stranger several times, and his stillness finally made the later move towards the door followed by him.

Aramis was on the other side of the door when the stranger opened it, and for a moment d’Artagnan felt like he had been the one invading someone else’s apartment.

“Oh, there you are, Athos!”

“Good morning, Aramis.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“The couch isn’t as comfortable as my bed but if I’m being honest I didn’t care too much.”

“Eh… excuse me” d’Artagnan felt a bit out of place when both Aramis and the other person ( _Athos_ , contributed Constance’s voice) turned their head to look at him, “care to explain?”

The brief silence was broken by Aramis, who immediately stepped into the door and hung nir arm over d’Artagnan’s shoulders making him lower the frying pan he had been pointing at the stranger the whole time. “This one, my friend, is Athos and I’m sure they will be very very sorry for taking possession of you couch as soon as they are less hungover.”

Said Athos sent them a bit of an apologetic look, and it was plain to see that they were really hungover so he supposed he had no choice but to be friendly. Besides, as far as he knew, both Porthos and Aramis worked at the police station and he really wanted all the help he could get to enter there, and forgiving a friend sounded like something that would be remembered.

“I’m d’Artagnan” he said while trying to hold with his left hand both his phone and the pan to be able to shake Athos hand.

The was a brief smirk in the corners of their mouth, but they only muttered “Athos” before looking again at Aramis. “Please tell me that you have coffee.”

Ne laughed and let go of d’Artagnan walking towards nir own apartment “Porthos is doing it right now.”

As they both crossed the hall, the little voice returned to d’Artagnan’s mind. _That’s a strange way to meet someone, but at least you know that Aramis can get you their phone_. Cursing his mental Constance again, he tried not to look at Athos’ butt as they walked away.

“By the way” they said turning one last time towards d’Artagnan, “nice pajamas.”


End file.
